


Still My Person

by filmfanatic82



Series: Making a Change [2]
Category: Power Rangers (2017), The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Clarke & Octavia are siblings, F/F, Slight Power Rangers crossover, brief cameo of Kim, gender queer, non-binary, past rayna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-12-27 09:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12078579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filmfanatic82/pseuds/filmfanatic82
Summary: “O Blake Griffin, don’t even think about finishing that sentence. You and I both know, I’d never in a million years let you do this alone. Even if it means accompanying you to the middle of bumblefuck nowhere.”A small but noticeable smile creeps across O’s face as Clarke’s words fully sink in. “That’s a first.”“What?”“You used my new name.”“Yeah. Well I’ve been dying for the right opportunity to try it out ever since you changed it. Gotta say, it’s got a nice ring to it. Especially the Griffin part.”-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------A quick fic centering around Octavia and Raven as they redefine their relationship in the context of Octavia coming to terms with being gender queer / non-binary.





	1. O's POV

**Author's Note:**

> Don't even know how to begin to describe where this concept originated from. 
> 
> I've always been a HUGE Octaven fan and fell in love with the idea of Octavia being non-binary / gender queer after reading the amazing fanfic "you're magic & you're real" by unicyclehippo. 
> 
> As for the random Power Rangers cross-over... well clearly, based off of my other works, I can't seem to quit that universe even if I tried and lately they seem to make their way into everything I write, so it only fitting that this first part takes place at Tommi's shop.
> 
> Also, I am not gender queer in real life, so if I made any major mistakes please just let me know. Want to ensure that I'm representing it correctly.
> 
> Enjoy!

“For the last time, no,” O huffs out with a frustrated breath of air. 

“You're crazy, O. It’s only twenty minutes away. I’ve been going there for years now and loved it. Denise is seriously like the ultimate hair whisperer. Even Lexa approves of her, and you know how picky she can be. I'm sure she can squeeze you in if I just give her a call.” Clarke shifts herself around in the passenger seat, digs into the back pocket of her skinny black jeans, and fishes out her cell phone. “Way better option than driving two hours to some random barbershop in the middle of nowhere just cause a friend of a friend recommended it.”

“No.”

“O…”

O glances over at Clarke, cell phone ready in hand, and is suddenly hit with a gut-wrenching wave of conflicting emotions. Their knuckles ever so slightly whiten, as they curl their fingers tighter around the steering wheel. Part of O wants nothing more than to just turn the car around, right then and there, and tell Clarke to forget about it. But they know better. Doing that will only trigger Clarke to dive straight into one of her famous impromptu “I love you and will always support you” speeches and frankly, O can’t handle sitting through it…  

Especially not today.

It’s not like O isn’t beyond grateful for Clarke’s unwavering love and support. Actually, it’s the exact opposite. In all honesty, they wouldn’t have made it even half as far in life, if it hadn’t been for that girl sitting beside them in the passenger's seat of their Jeep Wrangler. 

Ever since that fateful day back in elementary school, some fifteen or so odd years ago, when an overly social 8-year-old Clarke happened to notice a painfully shy 5-year-old O’s lack of a lunch and freely offered up her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Clarke has been the one constant in O’s lie that they can continually count on no matter what the circumstance or situation. She’s always just there. No strings attached or questions ever asked. 

And life, unfortunately, has genuinely thrown them both more than their fair share of curveballs. They’ve been by each other’s side through the loss of parents, friends, and those that were supposed to love them unconditionally, never once doubting in each other’s level of commitment or endless love for one another.  

Clarke, in short, is so much more than just their best friend. She’s their family… The only real family that O’s got. 

And yet, if O’s being completely honest with themselves, Clarke isn’t the one that they desperately wish was by their side at this very moment in time. Yes, Clarke is so many, many things to them… but she isn’t their “person”.

“You don’t have to come, Clarke,” O quietly responds, eyes returning to the open road. “I can drop you off and--”

“O Blake Griffin, don’t even think about finishing that sentence. You and I both know, I’d never in a million years let you do this alone. Even if it means accompanying you to the middle of Bumblefuck nowhere.”

A small but noticeable smile creeps across O’s face as Clarke’s words fully sink in. “That’s a first.”

“What?”

“You used my new name.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ve been dying for the right opportunity to try it out ever since you changed it. Gotta say it’s got a nice ring to it. Especially the Griffin part.” Clarke gives a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders as if to say it’s no big deal. And yet, her matching smile says else wise. 

“I was always meant to be a Griffin.”

“Just like you were always meant to be O,” Clarke counters with a warm and loving tone to her voice. “Now where the hell’s your AUX cable? I’m so not doing this ride listening to nothing but Disney’s greatest hits.” 

“What’s wrong with Disney?” 

But Clarke doesn’t even humor O with a response. She reaches over, snatches up the nearby cable, plugs in her phone, and then queue up some music. “Don’t get me started.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Two hours and a few pit stops later, O finds themselves camped next to Clarke on a row of less than comfy metal chairs, in a some no named barbershop on the outskirts of a town called Angel Grove, nervously flipping their cell phone over and over again in their hands. 

O had first heard about this place from their jiu-jitsu instructor Zack. It had come up randomly one day after an extra grueling grappling practice, where O had found themselves beyond struggling with their outwardly feminine appearance. Each time they would swap partners, it was the same pronoun song and dance. Yes, O had long hair. And yes, thanks in part to not being able to wear their binder during practice, they had a clearly visible chest. But they weren’t a girl. Nor a boy. They were just O. A concept that most of their neanderthal like counterparts couldn't seem to wrap their heads around to save their lives.

After the twentieth or so time of correcting a classmate on the use of the female pronouns, O had been more than ready to throw in the towel, but then, seemingly out of nowhere, Zack stepped in and in his own, unique way somehow managed to put the entire class in their place by merely telling them that the next person who used the wrong pronouns when referring to O would have to spar against him… without the use of their hands. 

It was a small gesture but nonetheless meant the world to O. 

Afterwards, Zack had suggested that the two of them go grab a beer together at a nearby bar. O had been more than hesitant at first to say yes. They simply just weren’t the type of person who up and agreed to hang out with a perfect stranger… Especially, the seemingly hetero male variety. But there was something about Zack that made O feel at ease. Something that they rarely seemed to be able to find in others.

And so one beer turned into half a dozen, and before O realized it, they were spilling their entire life story to the lovable goofball of a boy sitting across from them. They talked for hours on end about everything and anything. Childhood. Friends. Losing parents from illness. Coming out; Zack as pansexual and O, first as bisexual and later genderqueer. 

Then, when the conversation shifted to O’s current struggles with who they are and more importantly, who they want to become, without missing a beat, Zack reached for a bar napkin and scribbled down a name and address, telling them that if they were really ready to make a change, that they needed to go meet a friend of his named Tommi. That, out of anyone, Tommi was the one who could best help O take that plunge.

“Ouch.” O winces in slight discomfort as Clarke gives them a hard elbow to the arm. 

“Look,” Clarke whispers while motioning towards the raven-haired girl sitting with her back towards them in a nearby barber chair. 

“What?”

“That girl.”

“What about her?”

Clarke gives O a slightly exaggerated eye roll and shakes her head. “You blind? She’s freakin’ hot.”

O briefly glances up at the girl, who’s too busy texting away on her phone to even notice that they are talking about her, and then back at Clarke with a general look of confusion. “Clarke, you’ve got a finance...”

“Technically, Lexa’s still just a girlfriend. Unless you know something--”

“I know nothing,” O blurts out, in a rushed exhale of breath that signifies one thing and one thing only… They’re lying through their teeth.

“Riiiight.” Clarke chuckles with an all-knowing smirk. “Well, anyways. I can still think a girl’s hot. Especially a girl that looks like that.”

O gives a half shrug of their shoulders and then goes back to compulsively rotating their phone, checking the screen for any new notifications with each and every flip.

“Still nothing?” 

“Nope.”

“She’ll come around, O. Promise. Raven’s just being--”

“It’s fine,” O abruptly cuts Clarke off, not wanting to go any further on the topic. They shove their phone into the back pocket of their jeans and then let out a light sigh. 

Clarke scoots herself closer to O, playfully resting her head on their shoulder. “Liar.” 

“I’m fine, Clarke.”

“And I look forward to my Sunday morning couple runs with Lexa,” Clarke responses, sarcasm dripping from each and every one of her words. 

“I’m okay.” O closes their eyes and rests their head on top of Clarke’s, taking momentarily comfort in just existing in their pseudo sister’s presence, encompassed by the ambiance sounds of the shop around them.

“O, right?”

O’s eyes pop back open at the sound of their name and instantly comes face to face with nothing short of a real, live greek goddess of a woman. Her warm smile seems to radiate beyond the boundaries of her face, virtually lighting up the space around her. It’s infectious, and suddenly, O feels as if she can breathe again. 

O raises their head, gives a slight nod in response, attempting to match the woman’s smile. “Yeah.”

“I’m Tommi. Let me finish up with Kim here, and I’ll be with you in a moment,” Tommi replies, giving a little bit of a flirtatious wink before turning back toward the raven-haired girl in the chair. 

“I take it back. Tommi’s hot.” Clarke perks up, eyes glued to Tommi’s ass. “Like hotter than hot.”

“One word. Lexa.”

“Two words. Just looking,” Clarke responds in her ever so irksome, sing-song style voice. “Geez. Lighten up. You’re no fun, O.”

“Yeah. I’ve been told that.” O exhales as they feel their hand unconsciously move towards her back pocket. They stop, though, just short of reaching for their phone and instead opt to run their hand over their signature ponytail as a single and sobering thought runs rampant through the confines of their head… 

Maybe their “person” isn’t really their “person” after all.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Okay. So what are we doing today?” Tommi asks as she finishes adjusting the cape around O’s neck and pumps up the chair. 

“I… Um… I…” O trails off, suddenly at a complete and utter loss for words. They’ve rehearsed this countless times before in their head and yet, now here in the moment, it seems like an impossible task. Why is it so painfully hard just to go ahead and pull the trigger? 

O’s eyes dart over towards Clarke, who’s lounging in the empty chair to their right, and shoots her a desperate plea of a look.

“O’s wants something that screams I’m here, and I’m genderqueer with extra emphasis on the queer part.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” O mutters under her breath, shaking her head in disbelief at Clarke’s response.

“What? It’s true.” 

“Girlfriends?” Tommi asks as her eyes ping-pong between the two of them.

“Us?!” Clark immediately jerks forward producing an extremely unattractive hybrid of a snort and a laugh. “Oh God no! No. No way. We so aren’t… Not that there’s anything wrong with… It’s just…”

“Clarke.”

“O’s my little sis-- Shit!” Clarke buries her face into her hands, as the classic telltale signs of embarrassment sets in. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to--”

“I know.”

“Is she always like this?” Tommi laughs unable to mask her growing level of amusement at the two of them.

“Unfortunately.” 

“Am not.” Clarke reaches over and slaps O in the arm. “Let me try this again. O’s my amazingly wonderful, kick ass, little sibling. And, before you ask, yes, we’re adopted. But that’s beside the point. We both do have girlfriends--”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” O cuts in with huff of annoyance. 

“Fine. Whatever. I’ve got a girlfriend, and you’ve got a person. A person named Raven, who’s currently being a major ass cu--”

“Clarke!” 

A sudden and uncomfortable silence falls between the three of them as no one seems to know exactly what to say or do next. 

Then--

“I just need to look like me,” O quietly states with a long exhale of breath. “If that makes any sense.”

“Total sense.” Tommi gives O a light squeeze of understanding on their shoulders, then grabs hold of O’s ponytail holder and with a simple flick of the wrist tugs it free. O’s long, chocolate locks cascade down, blanketing the better part of their shoulders and back. They suddenly can’t seem to remember the last time they had it cut. Maybe two years ago? Or three? Definitely way before the beginning of this journey. 

Tommi starts to work her fingers through O’s hair, taking her time to examine how it falls as she flips it from one side to another. “I’ve got an idea, but it’ll be a pretty big ass change. You 100% positive you’re ready for something like that? Cause if not, I can always cut it in stages. Maybe bring it up here to your shoulders first and then in a few weeks--”

“No. I’m ready now,” O interrupts with a hint of a tremble to their voice. They give themselves one last good look in the mirror, swallowing back down the lump of fear in their throat and then, mustering up all of the confidence they can find within themselves, a gives a slight nod of confirmation back at Tommi. “Let’s do this.”


	2. Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Get up.”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “I said, get up. We’re going out,” Anya flatly states and then get up off of the bed, goes over to the dresser, and starts rummaging through a drawer.
> 
> “Where?”
> 
> Anya grabs a t-shirt and jeans and harshly tosses them at Raven. “You know where.”
> 
> Raven catches the clothes and then lets out a long sigh. “Fine. But you’re paying.”  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Raven's POV with a healthy side of Anya ;)

“Reyes!”

“Fuck,” Raven grumbles into her pillow. She blindly gropes for the comforter, pulling it fully over her head with a deep, resentful groan. “Go away, An. I’m sick.”

There’s a moment of silence and then--

“Bullshit!”

Anya rips the comforter off of Raven in one fell swoop leaving her utterly exposed. Raven recoils, throwing her arm across her face, shielding her eyes from the harsh sunlight. “What the fuck, man!”

But Anya doesn’t respond. She instead grabs hold of the pillow from beneath Raven’s head and smacks her in the body with it. 

“Ouch. Hey… C’mon, An.” Raven pushes herself up in the bed, smoothing back the stray flyaways from her ponytail. “What are you doing here?”

Anya takes a seat on the edge of the queen-sized bed next to Raven and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Why do you think?”  

“Clarke told Lexa…”

“And Lexa texted me,” Anya finishes Raven’s sentence with a familiarity that says that this isn’t the first time they have found themselves in this situation.  

Raven’s fingers dance along the edge of the heather grey jersey sheets, avoiding Anya’s penetrating stare at all costs. She knows exactly why Anya’s has shown up unannounced in her bedroom at 10:30 am on a Saturday morning. It’s the same, exact reason why she hasn’t been able to manage to pull herself from the confines of her bed over the course of the last two hours. Ever since Raven had heard the sounds of keys being snatched up off of the kitchen counter, followed by the front door slamming shut.  

“Talk to me, Reyes.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Raven mumbles in response, still unable to pull her eyes away from the bedding in front of her. 

A deafening silence seeps into the room, surrounding the two of them. They simply sit there in it, as Raven continues to fidget with the edge of the sheets and Anya waits for a response. Raven more than knows that the waiting game isn’t one that she’s going to win. Not with Anya. Anya may lack patience with many things, but when it comes to waiting people out, she is nothing short of a hands-down expert.

And that’s the exact reason why the two have remained such close friends for all these years, even after their relationship fell apart. Anya seems to know how to cut right through Raven’s overly confident facade and get straight to the heart. Regardless of how hard she tries to mask it. 

There’s only one other person -- her person -- who can manage to do the same thing, but at the moment, they’re nowhere to be found. And it’s all Raven’s fault. 

Anya lets the silence hang for another moment or two and then--

“Get up.”

“What?”

“I said, get up. We’re going out,” Anya flatly states and then get up off of the bed, goes over to the dresser, and starts rummaging through a drawer.

“Where?”

Anya grabs a t-shirt and jeans and harshly tosses them at Raven. “You know where.”

Raven catches the clothes and then lets out a long sigh. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

“Pay up,” Anya says as she walks over to the dartboard and pulls her dart out of the bullseye.

“How can you still do that? You’re on your third whiskey.” Raven reaches into her back jean pocket, produces her wallet, and pulls out a twenty. She shoves it into Anya’s outstretched hand, attempting to ignore the smug look of satisfaction plastered across Anya’s face. 

“I’ll never reveal that secret. Not even to you, Reyes.” Anya picks back up her tumbler of whiskey and takes a long swig. “Another game?”

“Gimme five. I need a refill first.” Raven makes her way back to their corner booth, slightly favoring her left leg as she does. 

Anya takes note of this and slides herself into the opposite side of the booth. “When’s your next appointment?”

“Next Thursday.”

“You’ve got someone to go with you?”

Raven gives a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, downs the end of her beer, and then motions to the nearby bartender for another. “I did. But who knows after today.”

“What time is it?”

“What?”

“The appointment, idiot. What time is it on Thursday?”

“An…” Raven sighs with a hint of gratefulness to her voice. Although asking for help has never been her style, there has always been an unspoken understanding between the two of them, especially when it comes to Raven’s leg. 

The accident had happened right in the midst of the rockiest part of their breakup. Anya had been driving at the time with Raven in the passenger's seat. It had been one of those car rides. The silent and deadly types. The ones where neither one refused to talk out of pure and utter stubbornness. 

Three years later and Raven still doesn’t have many clear memories of the accident itself. She remembers sitting at the red light and starring Anya down, in an attempt to make the older girl as uncomfortable as humanly possible. All because they had had a stupid fight earlier that morning over who used the end of the milk. And then, nothing. Not even fragments of what happened. Just a massive, gaping hole where memories should be.

Part of Raven wishes she remembers… but there’s a more significant part of her that’s eternally grateful she doesn’t. 

Raven only knows what Anya and the others have chosen to tell her throughout the last couple of years. Mainly, just the cliff notes and nothing else. 

A man fell asleep at the wheel, ran a red light, and proceeded to t-bone their car, hitting Raven’s side dead on, leaving her right leg a mangled mess of broken bones and severed nerves. Anya had managed to walk away from the crash, virtually unscathed with only a few gashes and two broken ribs, but emotionally, she was left an absolute wreck. 

Although Anya will never fully admit it, Raven knows that she remembers every last detail… including having to helplessly watch as the paramedics shocked Raven’s heart back to life twice on the way to the hospital. 

And truthfully, it was the accident that allowed them to seemingly transition from girlfriends on the verge of imploding, to lifelong best friends. With no bitterness or animosity towards each other. Just an unspoken and unbreakable bond to always be there for one another. Regardless of the reason or circumstance. 

“What time, Reyes?”

“4:30 at Mercy,” Raven says with a heavy exhale of breath. Anya nods in response and then takes another long sip of her whiskey.  

A comforting silence settles between the two of them as they sit there for a few moments, merely watching the rest of the daytime regulars pound back their drinks of choice, then finally--

“You ready to tell me what’s going on?”

Raven runs her hands over her ponytail and shifts a bit in her seat as the bartender swings by, dropping off a fresh round for both of them. “Not really but I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Well, we could always just continue to get shitfaced, but then you’d probably have to suffer the wrath of Clarke.”

Raven shudders as the thought crosses her mind. “I love that girl, but no thanks.”

“Yeah. No one deserves that,” Anya lightly chuckles in response. “‘Cept maybe my baby sister.”

“Commander heart eyes? Please. Clarke can’t even pretend to be mad at her for more than five minutes tops.”

Anya takes another swig of whiskey, ever so slightly grimacing as it burns the back of her throat. A telltale sign that the alcohol is starting to take effect. “So…”

“So?”

“Reyes…”

“I dunno where to start,” Raven confesses in barely more than a whisper as her fingers mindlessly trace the lip of her beer bottle. 

“Let’s start with the basics. Why aren’t you there?”

“I dunno.”

“Did something happen?”

“No. I just… I dunno. I woke up this morning and just… I just couldn’t do it.”

“You freaked.”

Raven gives a slight nod and downs a long, hard swig of her beer.

“And then what happened?”

“I made up a lame ass excuse saying I was sick and then O stormed out.”

“Why now?”

Raven shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders. “God, if I know. It’s not like it was a surprise or anything. They’ve been talking about this for weeks now.”

Another moment of silence falls between the two of them as Anya mulls her thoughts over, then—

“You wanna know what I think?” 

“Not really, but you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

A chuckle slips from Anya’s lips at Raven’s response. She tucks her dirty blond locks behind her ears and gives a rare, comforting smile. “The unknown is fuckin’ terrifying.”

“Thanks captain obvious.”

Anya balls up a nearby cocktail napkin and throws it directly at Raven’s forehead. “I wasn’t done, dipshit. The unknown is terrifying…  especially when it comes to the person you love. And all you and O have done over the past three years is face the unknown. Head fuckin’ on. Time and time again. Without any hesitation whatsoever.”

“That’s not true.” 

Anya raises an eyebrow in Raven’s direction and continues to sip on her whiskey.

“It isn’t.” 

“What’d you do when O told everyone  that they wanted to change their name?” 

“An…”

“What’d you do, Reyes?”

“I threw them an ‘it’s an O’ party.”

“And…”

“And got them custom plates for their Jeep.”

“And what did you do when O came out to Bellamy, and he flipped his shit?”

“Okay. But if I hadn’t punched him, Clarke would’ve.”

“Fair point.”

Raven pounds back her beer, chugging way more than needed for a regular sip and then looks at Anya with a raw vulnerability that she rarely lets anyone see. “What if I’m not enough for them anymore?”

Raven waits for a response, but it never comes. Instead, Anya erupts in a loud, jarring laughter which is nothing short of unnerving. 

“What?” Raven asks, clearly annoyed by Anya’s response.

Anya wipes the mock tears away from her eyes as she collects herself. “You’re an idiot.”

“An, I’m serious.”

“I am too. You, Raven Reyes, are an absolute idiot. You and O are soulmates. And you know I don’t believe in that shit. You two are just destined to be together. End of story. I saw it for myself that day in your hospital room. That person loves you in a way that no one else can. Not even me.”

A bittersweet smile spreads across Raven’s lips at these words. She starts to respond but somehow knows that it isn’t needed. That’s how their relationship works.

The silence settles back in once again between Raven and Anya, as the two sit and sip on their drinks. 

BUZZ. 

Anya’s phone buzzes against the wood of the table signifying a new notification. She scoops it up, swipes it open, and suddenly a devilish smirk crawls across her face.

“Who is it?” Raven asked slightly intrigued.

“Clarke.”

“What’d she say?”

“She didn’t. Just sent through a photo of O.”

Raven pauses for a moment, letting that info sink in, then goes to reach for Anya’s phone. But Anya is too quick. She yanks the phone just out of Raven’s reach, making sure not to show her the screen.

“No way, Reyes. No cheating. You’re just gonna have to go home and see it for yourself.”

“I hate you.” Raven mocks a pouts as she slumps back in the booth and takes another long chug of her beer.

“Right back atcha.” Anya lovingly replies with a bit of a wink and a smirk.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

A few hours and two more beers later and Raven finds herself standing in front of her apartment door, keys in hand but unable to will herself to move. Guilt-ridden fear courses through every inch of her veins. It’s been growing ever since Clarke sent through a single text. A text to let Raven know not only how fantastic O looked but also not to fuck this up. That she had already done enough damage as is. 

And that’s just it… What if it’s too late. What if this one singular stupid decision, has cost her everything? 

What if her person doesn’t want to be her person anymore?

Raven takes a deep, sobering breath and pushes back down those thoughts. Then, mustering up every ounce her trademark confidence, she puts her keys in the lock, turns the knob, and opens the door.

“O?” Raven calls out as she cautiously makes her way into the semi-darkened apartment. At first glance, it would appear that no one’s home, but she knows better. Raven spots little traces of O’s presence all throughout the foyer. Their beat-up black converse haphazardly slipped off, laces still tied. Their set of car keys with the corny O+R keychain that Raven has gotten them on their second anniversary on the key holder by the front door. And of course, the distinct smell of Thai wafting from the living room. Her and O’s favorite comfort food.

Raven drops her keys on the entry table, slips her shoes off next to O’s, and then with another deep breath, rounds the corner to the living room.

And suddenly… time seems to stand still.

There, sitting on the couch is O— her O— staring back at her, with a collection of untouched takeout Thai spread out before them on the coffee table. Their signature ponytail, the one that they only tend to take out when showering, has been replaced with an androgynous looking undercut. Both the back and sides are shaved down to almost the skin, while the hair on top is somewhat on the longer side so that it can be flipped from side to side.

The hairstyle hardens O’s classic features in a way that is nothing short of breathtaking. It amplifies their masculine side yet at the same time doesn’t entirely push them too far in one direction nor the other. Instead, it allows O to perfectly fall right into the place that they’ve been desperately desiring to be for the majority of their life. Right in the middle.

“I picked up Thai. Clarke told me you and Anya went to Joe’s so I figured you’d be hungry,” O quietly states devoid of any real emotion whatsoever, eyes locked in on the food before them.

But Raven can’t seem to find her words. Her brain is too preoccupied with the rapid fire of emotions that are fighting for dominance. Love. Passion. Desire. Guilt. They cycle through like cards being dealt. Each one flashing for the briefest of seconds before being replaced by the next.

O slowly rises from the couch, still unable to bring themselves to look Raven in the eyes, and nervously rubs their hands against the freshly shorn stubble on the back of their head. “Look. I know it’s a huge change and we never really talked about how it would—“

“You look like you,” Raven says in nothing more than a whisper.

Upon these words, O finally lifts their eyes to meet Raven’s, revealing the telltale signs that they’ve been crying. 

“What?” A look of hopeful confusion sweeps across O’s face as if they are unsure of what they’ve just heard.

“You look like you, O,” Raven repeats herself, this time with a bit more confidence to her voice. Tears start to well up in her eyes as she watches a heart-swelling smile slowly emerge on O’s lips. “God, I’m so sorr—“

But before Raven can even finish her sentence, O closes the gap between them and savagely attacks the taller girl with a deep, bruising kiss. 

Raven returns the kiss as her hands immediately snake upwards towards O’s head and is pleasantly met by the foreign sensation of the soft, prickly fuzz. It feels different but somewhat absolutely right. As if this is the way it has always meant to be. 

After a moment or two, Raven and O both pull out of the kiss, resting their foreheads together as they attempt to catch a breath of air.

“So you like it?” O asks with a hint of lingering doubt. 

Raven leans back, giving O a playfully dramatic once over, flipping the longer strands of their hair one way and then another. “Nope. I love it.”

O can’t help but smirk at these words. They entwine their fingers with Raven’s and lock eyes once again with a fierce but loving determination as if they’re once again ready to take on the world. “Still my person?”

“Always, O. As long as you’re mine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for any typos and/or slips on the pronouns.
> 
> Debating whether or not to explore these characters / world further. Might attempt a multi chapter story, centered on Octaven from the time of the accident to present day if there's any interest in it. 
> 
> Would love your thoughts / comments / feedback :)
> 
> Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> And next up is part two... Raven's POV. Aiming to have a it up shortly, right after I finish up the next chapter of The Long Game.
> 
> In the meantime, feel free to comment away! Would love to know what you think.


End file.
